Soushitsu
by Visual Confectionary
Summary: Edward finds himself confused anymore, hating what he once loved. He turns to selfish ways to obtain what he wants. Roy is driven, staring at the night sky, and hoping for one blonde to return and give him some answers. Yaoi. Language. Angst.
1. Chapter 1

First off, I have to thank my amazing beta, walkthrough. She's wondermous -squishhh. But moving on.

Warnings for this story: Angst, Yaoi, Alcohol, OOC-ness, etc.

And I don't own anything, unfortunately.

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Soushitsu

Chapter I

Night was drifting in the streets of Germany as Edward pushed past people on the sidewalks. The ladies of the night were making their rounds, tugging on the ties of the stressed husbands, forcing them into a lustful desire that could no longer be denied. Shamefully the men would follow the women into the back alleys, hushed moans filling the night's air. Edward scoffed at the obscenity and made his way into a small bar. He positioned himself on a barstool, and waved the bartender over.

"Bourbon on the rocks."

The man nodded and slid the drink over to Edward in a moment's time. He lifted his hand just enough to catch it, lift it up to his lips, and take a drink. As it lowered from his lips he swished it around, looking at the liquid moving from side to side in the glass. His thoughts drifted as he watched the two ice cubes repeatedly knock into each other. He was stuck in Germany and was a world away from his hometown.

Hell, he didn't even want to call it his hometown. He was officially able to call himself selfish now. After sacrificing himself for his brother, he started to have second thoughts. He didn't want to be here, deeming his brother being real again or not. He wanted to be back in central, spending his days conjuring up reason to run down to the Colonel's office to scream at him, cause a ruckus, or whatever he could just to see the Colonel acknowledge him. It had been 5 years now since he'd seen the bastard.

Bastard.

That's exactly what the man was. He was a high ranking officer. He was a master in the art of swooning. He was sophisticated, indicating a good and possibly wealthy upbringing. His features were undeniably gorgeous. His smirk and smug attitude were endearing to Edward's senses. There was something about the man's stature that intrigued him. Bold as Edward was, he could never approach the man on an intimate level, nor suggest anything of the matter.

_"Fullmetal, you are a child, not to mention a male, and that's not professional. I'm disgusted and disappointed."_

More than likely that's what the man would have told him if he had said anything pertaining to a love interest in the man.

"Would you like another drink, sir?" the bartender inquired, interrupting his thoughts.  
"Yeah, just keep them coming, please."

Edward said, finishing off his first glass of bourbon.

Edward left no indication or tried not to leave one for the man to think of him other than being his subordinate. He wanted to walk up to the man and kiss him, or to tell him how he felt. Unfortunately though, real life wasn't like that, and you can't just approach someone so carefree and expect them to always say yes, and an "I love you," in return. Taking into account that he was a man, much older than him, and his higher up in the military. It was clearly common sense that it should be a dead issue. Se La Vi.

_"What kind of fucking equivalent trade was that? Al got his body. I lost my home and the fucking chance to try and be with the man I love. What the hell did I gain? It's not like I got my limbs back or anything. I mean yeah, now he can eat and touch things. But now I'm just like he was, cold and unable to feel. What a conceited asshole."_Edward thought, bitterly, finishing the second glass quickly.

"I hope he's happy,_"_ Edward mumbled to himself, sipping on a fresh glass of bourbon.

Edward tried to convince himself on countless occasions that he no longer loved Roy Mustang. He could pretend, but that was simply the extent of it all. Why was something that was not even mentioned to the other so painstakingly important to him? More than likely this was because it just so happened to be unfinished in his mind.

_"I bet the bastard is married now."_

Suddenly, he was hit with deep sorrow, clutching the next glass and drinking viciously. His forehead laid on the bar, eyes following the condensation falling down the side of the glass. He lifted a finger and slowly traced the pattern along the glass. His surroundings were quite oblivious to his existence. People were hopping about to the music playing. Some were singing and shouting. Others were talking with friends, laughing, telling jokes. It was an upbeat place, and it started to annoy him. Couldn't anyone see his anguish, his pain? Why is it that no one pays attention to him? Was he completely invisible? Did he even matter?

He sluggishly lifted his head, again letting the alcohol pass through his lips, consuming all he could, needing, and trying to forget. Perhaps it could all just dwindle away and be forgotten in this amber tinted liquid. The taste was strong in his mouth.

"Fuck you, Al."

* * *

The snow stung his face as it blew harshly, bearing no mercy. He was steadfast and kept his unsheathed eye only peering forward, waiting for dusk to breach the horizon, being his cue to turn in for the night. Nothing at this point could cross his mind while on duty, all there was to do is watch and not succumb to any self satisfaction. Looking out to the edge of what seemed to be the world, a white snowy surface reflected the radiant evening.

It was undeniably boring. A small sigh emitted from his lips before he straightened up again, snow beginning to lightly wisp around in the air, establishing a blanket which subdued the blue hue he was, contrasting against the white all around him, save for the small cabin positioned behind and slightly to the right of him.

He peered to the west, ah yes. That's it. The sun was slowly sinking, ready to fall steadily to the dusk that Roy had been expecting. He moved to the side of the cabin, fumbling with a small box of matches in his pocket. When the breeze calmed, he lit the inside of the glass casing that was his outdoor light, being careful to close the small door promptly upon lighting the cloth inside. A rose color had spread across the area, allowing him to step inside of his cabin and shake the snow off of his uniform. He removed the said uniform, replacing it with warm robes. Lighting the fire in his fireplace, he watched the flames grow over the wood, surrounded by charming stonework. Heat slowly rose in the cabin, and he sat down in chair, allowing his eye to wander to the small picture frame on top of the fireplace.

His subordinates, rather his past subordinates, were aligned, all with hearty smiles and in the corner stood two blondes that specifically intrigued him. The first one was Riza Hawkeye.

Riza was a loyal subordinate and companion. She was trustworthy and was constantly getting things done without delay. She solved most of her problems with a gun, shooting, or at the very least, threatening to shoot them. Riza did have a soft side though and it was for Roy. Yes, he was very aware of it. He thought on it before and tried dates with her, but it never could quite work out for her. She tried desperately to make him fall for her the way she had fallen for him, but it never seemed to faze him.

The other blonde was the only one not wearing blue, and he was being poked in the ribs by Jean Havoc, trying to let a smile emit from the small character.

Edward.

He was always unleashing his wrath in one way or another. Edward was a prodigy, probably the brightest person he had ever met. His logic could be argued, but his theories could never be proven wrong. Even though his childish outbursts made him seem immature, he was probably keeping himself sane by keeping that childish side with him. It was what kept him driven, along with his other purposes. One thing, though, was this boy was a boy of many secrets. He too, was most definitely a man of many secrets. Roy was able to decipher some of these secrets. But he was too complicated and a lot was still hidden from him. He desired the answers from this boy, to hear the wisdom pour out of his young mouth.

Everyone had proclaimed the small alchemist to be dead after his sudden disappearance upon bringing his brother's body back with a self sacrificial method of alchemy. Roy knew better though, it didn't take something so complicated, yet simple to kill this boy. He felt and believed that wherever he was, he was still alive. All he could do was wait for him to return and spill the secret of the universe to him.

As the sky outside darkened, Roy's thoughts began to darken as well.

His only speculation about his sudden loss and desire for power was a loss in hope. Was there still a reason, or inspiration for the man? He still suffered from his memories about the war in Ishbal. The screams, the utter terror and pain that was inflicted because of him, were haunting his dreams, turning them to nightmares, every night. Everything that he touched seemed to break or fall apart. Everything great about his past was swept up, like old ash in the fireplace. Not easily forgotten, due to the black stains of soot, but had no importance to him, and thus discarded. It's a funny thing about power and what those will do for it.

He was pondering the meaning of life itself as he had done so many times before in this small cabin. His thoughts found themselves delving deep, deeper than could be comprehended by many. He wondered what motivated people to do the things they did, why words were left unspoken. Reflecting back on himself, he knew damn well he wasn't perfect. Even though he was now in his thirties, why didn't he feel satisfaction? Why was he so empty and what exactly was missing?

He had tasted the finest wines, lived in pure luxury, bedazzled women beyond all means necessary. His evenings had been spent in the warmth of his fine home, inherited by his wealthy family, library filled with books of high taste, much to his liking. He was a respectable officer at his job and was considered a hero among the higher ups. The world had been laid at his goddamn feet and he felt nothing had inspired him or made him want to let each day be worth living. He was so alone, so miserable.

Women had loved him, but he never felt anything. He had never met a lady that particularly stood out in his mind. They were all the same. The challenges would be overcome and he would become so easily bored with them all. The sparks were nonexistent. The circulatory pattern of never changing forced him into isolation.

Roy began fixing himself coffee, waiting for the whistle of the small pot to be audible. While he waited, he abruptly turned the picture frame around, making it invisible to his peripheral of vision. As steam rose, he slowly began to realize that in losing an eye, he lost all perception of depth and precise measurement in distance, and the distance and depth that he could no longer render was not only visible to the eye.

* * *

Edward scratched his head, observing his surroundings. He was in his apartment.

"Fucking shithole."

He wasn't exactly exaggerating, either. It was a quite the ramshackle apartment. The floor was old, being wooden and worn down to a dark color, scratches adorning every other board, and giving the room an overall musty smell. The wallpaper had been peeling in areas; the adhesive where it had been on the wall had left yellow streaks. In one corner of the room there was a refrigerator, a small stove, and a few cabinets. There were two windows, with ratty curtains pulled open, allowing some light to break the tone of the room.

He stood up and scratched his scalp. The way his hair clung to his fingers indicated the need for a shower. He slightly scoffed and wrapped back up in his blanket, and pressed his face into the cushions of the couch. He shifted and glared at the windows that were allowing the joy of sunshine to disrupt his sleeping. His head was throbbing from the amount of alcohol he drunk from the previous night, and he fought his way over to the window before hatefully jerking the curtains shut and crawling back onto the couch. Sure, his place wasn't much, but for the time being, it was home. It was somewhere that he could collect his thoughts peacefully. It was a place where he didn't have to face his past. Living with the person who resembled, and even had the same name as his brother, was far too troublesome for his already distressed mind. He remembered the day he moved out, and it wasn't so long ago.

_"I'm moving out." _

_Edward had just stepped into the room and he looked like hell. He was thinner than usual, indicating that he was not eating enough. His fingers traced his temple, suggesting another hangover. Dark circles lay under his eyes, and ah. His eyes were distant and dark, not the same golden, energetic eyes that everyone was used to. He threw himself down heavily onto a chair, peering at the other man._

_"Why?"  
"I can't stay here anymore."  
"...Why?" _

_  
"It's none of your goddamn business, is it?" Edward said, matter-of-factly. "I've already got a new apartment lined out." He added, nodding to the door where his things sat, packed. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Alphonse shook his head, acknowledging this fact. Edward walked over to retrieve the luggage and stepped out of the door._

_"I'll keep in touch."_

Of course, he lied. He wanted nothing to do with someone who resembled the one that was vile to him. It had been 2 months since he moved out, and he wasn't exactly getting along that much better either. He spent his days researching, and thankfully, his father had left behind enough money for him to live off of for a nice portion of his years. More than anything though, he wished to find a way to return, a way to say what needs to be said. Though, to his dismay, he often thought if it would all be in vain. As Roy had been pictured before by Edward, the man had probably settled down and fallen in love with a woman.

He lowered the covers slightly, allowing himself to peer out across the room. His stomach growled, indicating an immediate need for food. He headed over to his refrigerator and upon looking inside saw a few items, nothing that was particularly appetizing. He pulled on his shirt, not bothering to tuck it into his pants. Slipping on his shoes, he headed out the door to the grocery store, bound to find something worth consuming.

The clouds that passed overhead indicated precipitation of some sort to fall later. The afternoon sunlight would sneak in and pass through the clouds, only occasionally though as the gray atmosphere continued to surround him. It had been gray for the past several months and seemingly had no way of lightening up. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes set straight ahead as the grocery store was close by. He tried persuading his thoughts to take leave for the day, but they persisted. Oh god, how they persisted.

Children ran past him, loud and filled with laughter. Couples strolled by, hand in hand and nuzzled together, not acknowledging their surroundings. Summer was embracing everyone except for him, it seemed. Perhaps he was the only one seeing the gray skies. Maybe it was all an illusion in his mind. The lives around him seemed surreal and so ignorant to the true hardships of what it truly is to live. It just wasn't piecing together properly. Everyone else was content with themselves, why could he not feel this way? Was it against the morals of this world for him to be happy?

He wanted to take it all back. Everything was fucked up beyond his comprehension, and he was a prodigy. Or maybe, it was that he was useless without his alchemy, without his passion being able to keep him sane. Perhaps the blonde was finally going insane. He could only remember the way the gate terrified him. Passing through it made him feel as though he had lost a part of himself. He realized the answer to everything in there, and once he had come to the other side, the answer was still there. The damned answer did nothing but mock him by lingering on the tip of his tongue. He knew, subconsciously how to get back to the other side. Yet, his subconscious was not one to help him lightly. It preferred to torture the answer out of him.

Particularly, it would frustrate him when he was studying. His eyes would always widen with the realization, and once he went to record it, he felt as if he had stepped into a box. Echoing in his mind was, â€œWrite the goddamn answer down!â€ It retracted off of the walls of said box, and would slap him in the face, leaving him in a daze and unable to remember the reasoning for what he was going to write down. It no longer made sense, and he felt illiterate.

His head hung low as he stepped in the store, fluorescent lights annoying his gloomy disposition. His fingers grazed across the woven pattern of the small grocery basket before he finally picked it up. Every person he passed could feel the intense depression radiating around him and would stop for a moment of their time, pitying the blonde. The age that had been worn onto his face made him appear much older than he should have been, due to the severe amounts of stress and pain he had been enduring.

He made his way over to the icebox located around the back of the store, containing liquors and other assorted alcoholic drinks. His eyes scanned over the variety, before choosing a bottle of schnapps. Furrowing his brow, he picked up another bottle, this one being a bit stronger and tucked it in beside the schnapps. He figured it would be another boring night, and what better to entertain him than by these substances in glass bottles.

He decided to treat his self by buying an assortment of pastas and fresh vegetables for a nice pasta dish tonight. Picking up a few other things, some chocolate of the sorts would sound nice. Perhaps a nicely whipped mousse would suit his tastes for the night? He gathered the needed ingredients, dragging himself to the dairy section; he looked over to the milk, and for once in what seemed to be ages, smiled. He could remember the Colonel teasing him about his height, joshing around about how he needed to drink milk. Those moments caused any struggles that seemed unbearable a little manageable, even if the man wasn't 'his'. Once again, the frown returned to his face as he picked up a container of heavy cream and continued on.

After finding a few things to purchase, he made his way up to the register and was greeted by a familiar face.

He stopped in his tracks and stared. The basket that was in his hands hit the ground, contents falling out. The world, spinning at 800mph, seemed to halt to an abrupt stop. Edward's heart jumped and all he could do was stand in his place. He felt as though he was defying all laws of gravity and motion at that point. All he could feel was a divine bliss.

"..Roy?"

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Next chapter will be up as soon as possible.Reviews? And please, no flamers. Especially about the Al thing. Don't worry, let the plot develop :


	2. Chapter 2

Ahh! Chapter two has arrived!

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Except for this Vault Zero in front of me. -smiles

Warnings: Language. Stuff like that. Y'know.

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Chapter II

There was something exquisite about the night. Roy couldn't place his finger quite on it. Perhaps it was the night sky, a deep navy with a streak of violet soaring through the oblivion. As it twisted, as if driven by some strange force, hints of brilliant lavender would reflect off the pale moon. Stars littered the sky, each one in its place and bearing its own purpose. He concentrated on the sky, barely noticing the snow that began to coat the ground.

He was sitting in the windowsill with the curtains neatly tucked back, glass of wine in hand. Sipping on the delectable liquid, he noted the city, and how alive it was. Lights flashing everywhere, they were almost ruining the serenity of the night sky overhead. He could only imagine the people out strolling around, laughing, and alcohol heavy on their breath. Cigarette smoke filling the air, and sinners using the darkness as their playground.

He sighed, and his eyes trailed over to his mantle, the fire jumping from spot to spot. Everything was calm and quiet, save the crackling in the fireplace. Suddenly the wind howled, and he felt something tugging at his heart. Something was alerting him, and he wasn't sure what.

Troubled by this sudden revelation, he strode down the hallway and into his kitchen. On the counter was his bottle of wine, and he eyed it for a moment. It was already more than halfway gone due to his boredom from the evening, and was hesitating on finishing it off.

"Fuck it."

Roy poured the last of it into the delicate glass, and as soon as he took the first drink, there was a disturbing noise. It shook his insides for some reason. The noise sounded lone, and hollow. His eyes narrowed, trying to pretend like he didn't hear the uncanny noise. How dare someone be as rude as to interrupt him on his day off, and at midnight on top of it all!

He bit his lip, and slowly made his way towards the door. Perhaps they would leave if he were tardy enough. He drug his feet, and again the noise came. This time, he felt the sharpness of it. This person apparently meant business, making their rapping more known, and more frequent.  
He was standing in front of the door, separating him from this persistent person. He put his hand on the brass handle, prepared to turn it.

Then, the noise ceased. There was silence from both sides of the door. Roy tried listening closely to see if the person was making their move to leave him alone. Yet, there was no movement from either. His ear was pressed against the door, and he heard ragged breathing. He sipped his wine once more, eyeing the handle. Dare he destroy this mahogany boundary?

When he turned it, he figured it would have been more dramatic. As though someone were delivering a message of some military business, with a full salute and a "Colonel!" as the first words muttered upon his appearance. He was expecting maybe on of his past ladies to try sneaking in for the night, entertaining his tastes with eroticism. Perhaps it could have even been some type of important delivery, anything besides the reality he saw before him.

The figure was crouched in front of the door, hugging their knees. Snow was drifting on top of the person, and they did not move, nor shudder at the intense lashes of the wind. It was a reasonably small figure, with a mass of long blond hair flying loose and wildly around in the forceful movements of air. They were wearing a white dress shirt, and a pair of brown tweed trousers.

He stood there motionless, trying to figure out who this person was. He wiped his eyes, blurry from the wind blowing. The figure looked up, and his eyes widening when they met the others.  
The eyes of this person were golden. They were filled with something, so wide and wild. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words struggled to come out.

"Ed…"

Suddenly, the boy began crying hot tears, and he opened his mouth, only to let out a shriek like Roy had never heard before. It shook his very insides, and he felt like a part of him was withering upon hearing it. It was maddening, it was-

He sat straight up in the bed, broken out into a sweat, and forced his hands over his ears. He buried his head down in his lap. His breathing was forced as he fought off panic. He lifted his head barely enough to look at his surroundings. He noted it was the one room, made into a kitchen, bedroom, and office of the sorts. He realized he was back in his cabin.

"A dream…?" He said, almost expecting an answer from something.

He leaned over his bed, reaching for a small cabinet under his bedside table. Pulling out a bottle of whiskey, he took a quick swig. If anyone were to have seen the man in his state, it would have been a shock. He wasn't the charming, dynamic man as he was before. One eye lost, covered by a patch. He hadn't taken the time for a decent shave in ages, leaving the facial hair to do nothing but accumulate. His eyes were dark, no longer holding the light that reflected their sapphire underlay. All that was there were onyx orbs, floating, not focused.

"Hughes…where are you?"  
"You know I'm here when you need me."

Roy jerked up, eyes searching the room, before they stopped at the doorframe.

"But…you're dead."  
"Right now I'm simply a figment of your imagination. But never fear, I have plenty of things I can say to you. Things you're hiding from yourself…You can think of me as your, conscious, so to say."

Roy tried to focus his eyes, but the image of Hughes in his doorway was blurry. He was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, with, what was that? A half smile brushing across his face? He wanted to say that this was all just another weird dream, that it was a figment of his imagination,

But oh wait,

Hughes already said it was a figment of his imagination. Maybe he was losing it?

"So, Hughes, no, Maes," he paused briefly eyeing him. "What am I supposed to be doing?"  
"What are you supposed to be doing?"  
"I don't know."  
"Of course you know, you just don't want to admit it."  
"And what would that be?"  
"You need to get off your ass and go back home."  
"You know I can't do that."  
"Of course you can. You're the Colonel. You're Roy Mustang, The Flame Alchemist. Everyone needs you."  
"No, they don't." Roy said, a chuckle lightly breaking through his voice.

Hughes moved over in front of Roy, thoughtfully looking at the man. Roy sat in silence, taking another drink of whiskey. He searched the ghostlike figure before him with his eyes. He looked past him and to the mantle where the picture frame sat, turned backwards.

"What are you doing with yourself out here? If he comes back, he won't be coming back here. You won't get any answers from him if you're on the other side of the continent. He'll be under enough pressure when he comes back."  
"What do you mean, when he comes back?" Roy asked, his interest growing in this topic of said boy.  
"He's a genius, and where ever he is, he's trying to find a way back. He will find that way back, with his determination, with his drive. With his goddamn intelligence and will, he can accomplish anything. We've all witnessed that."

Silence pierced the room.

"No, we haven't."  
_'Yes, we have.'_

"'Yes we have', Hm, seems like your heart is saying more than your mouth is. I'm your conscious, remember? You can't fool me."  
"You're a real trip, you know that Hughes?"  
"So will you be leaving?"  
"I don't know."  
Hughes shifted uncomfortably.  
"What if, just asking as a friend, I want you to go home, just so you can check on my wife, and beautiful growing daughter, at the very least? She should be 8 years old now. I wonder if she remembers her dad."  
"Of course she does."  
Hughes looked over, with a smile on his face.

Roy looked up and returned the smile, only to see Hughes have gone. Another intake of the whiskey and he lay back down in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be a long day, and he might as well get sufficient rest.

* * *

Edward observed the man, closely. He was clad in green trousers with a white button up shirt and vest, which apparently was made to match the pants except for the little gold threads trimming it. Same hair, same height, same build, same smirk, but wait. The eyes weren't the same. They were bright, and strangely, a brilliant green, clashing with the suit. While these shone with an inevitable happiness, Roy's had always been dark, sometimes, in the right light, you could catch their hint of a deep blue. These green eyes reflected who he wasn't. That was the main difference for the time being between this man, and Roy Mustang.

"Roy? I don't recall…But here, let me help you." The man scrambled to the floor to pick up the scattered groceries and place them back into the basket. Edward could only stand there, looking dumbly at the man.

Once he was standing again, he curiously watched the young man standing still in front of him, and quite frankly, the blonde was making him very uncomfortable. The former alchemist made no indication of recognizing all of his belongings had been gathered, just stood there, eyes wide and filled with, shock, was it?

"I'm Raymond…just call me Ray." He said, holding out his hand, to shake the others.

"Yeah, I'm Ed. Do you, uh, work here?" He said slowly, hesitantly reaching out his hand to shake the Ray's.  
"Actually, I own this store. I'm filling in for my employee who couldn't make it today." He said, with a smile falling across his lips.  
"Oh, I see…I'll just go ahead and pay, I guess."

Ray nodded, placing the basket on the counter and ringing everything up while Edward took a moment to look at his hand. Staring at the glove, he clenched his hand into a fist and kept his eyes to the ground.

"So, who is Roy?" Ray asked, figuring it may start some kind of conversation to rid them of the awkward silence.

"Roy was someone I knew…a long time ago. I haven't seen him in years. You look just like him though.." Edward said, slightly dazed, and his eyes vaguely glazed over. He found it strange himself, being polite and a bit open with this man, who he only met. It was a sudden change of heart. Perhaps it was the dawn of a new era for him. Maybe it was just scaring the hell out of him.

"I see, I'm sorry if I brought up anything troublesome. Oh, though it does look like you'll be preparing a lovely meal tonight. Girlfriend, I suspect?" Ray inquired, changing the subject, with a wink.  
"No, I don't have a girlfriend. Just figured it would be nice, the company of some nice food while studying."  
"Studying?"  
"Yeah, you could call me a scientist. It's really how I spend my time anymore."  
"What type of science are you into?"  
"Alchemy."

Ray looked a bit taken aback at the reply. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. Edward studied this motion and felt something was indeed suspicious about this act.

"Alchemy. Huh." Ray spoke, his tone thoughtful as his arms crossed his chest.  
"Have you not heard of it?"  
"Oh. I've heard of it. I knew someone who studied it for awhile, too."

Silence fell between the two. Edward studied the ground again, as if it were something incredibly interesting. Ray totaled the amount up, and looked at the receipt intently, trying not to look at Edward. The gauche moment between the two was a bit unnerving, especially to Edward.

"Company, yes. I would like some company tonight, I do believe. Would you mind dropping by later? I could share my dinner with you, and we could speak of this topic, a bit more, in depth." Edward spoke quickly, and any passer by may have felt the undertone to his words and intents were macabre, so to say.

Ray understood this meant that he wanted information. He, in turn, wanted an understanding behind the information he held. It seemed like a decent trade off.

"Address?"  
"Give me that receipt and a pen."

He quickly scratched something down on the piece of paper, flipped it over to look at the price of his groceries, and laid the money on the counter.

"Come by at about 8:30."

Edward hesitated for a moment, and then ran outside. Once he rounded the corner and was out of view of the grocery store, he clutched onto the bags and looked up to the sky, and tried to come up with some kind of theory that would explain the scene that just happened. Such as finding Roy's parallel in this world, being nice to him, and inviting him for dinner.

Oh, yeah. That's what the former alchemist couldn't comprehend right now.

As if on cue, thunder cracked over head, and the rain slowly began to fall.

"Fucking Christ…" Edward said, dragging out the words as dashed towards his apartment. He was confused beyond all means, and didn't really want to go to his apartment. He wanted to run away, so far that he would meet the Earth's end and simply spend his days sifting through oblivion.

But why? This night could change everything. He was getting answers. He was going to be near the man of his dreams. No. Wait. That wasn't the man of his dreams. It was a replica, a mere shell. Whatever was on the inside of this Raymond fellow was most definitely not that of Roy Mustang. It was all reflected in the eyes. Those goddamn eyes disturbed him, again, mocking him with joy. Perhaps that was why he adored thinking about Roy's eyes. They were dark, filled with secrets and a shady past. The hints of blue drove him crazy, because they indicated a future, that there was hope underneath all of those shadows. It reminded him of the night. Those nights that lingered without sleep, where he was almost wishing for daylight to break, the sign of a new day and a step ahead. When light finally broke, he felt accomplished in that he was officially one step further than he was previously. Truth was though, and he knew it all too well, it was all redundant. He kept chasing down all the same ideas, ending up back at the same spot. Repetition bothered him more than anything, more so than rain that was now beginning to soak him.

He was never happier to see the dilapidated apartment building in his life. Upon arriving to his petite living space, he set the wet bags onto the countertop and decided to clean. First thing was first, he put up the groceries and figured out what needed to be done. Perhaps it was time to unpack the things that were in his closet and use them to make it seem more, livable. It was strange for him, to be motivated to do something for once. He was almost reluctant, but determined it was for the best.

Most of his decorating items were antiques given to him by his father. Nice lamps, paintings and such. Draperies were added to the small window in the living space. After a fair share of dusting, and tidying up, the apartment didn't appear to be the grave place he thought it to be. Upon seeing it, a person would simply think it was just aged and distinct with the details of it's past. Maybe, just maybe, waking up to it wouldn't immediately damper his spirits further.

He sat down, admiring his handy work. For once in awhile, he felt accomplished. Looking at the time, it was already 6 o'clock, indicating there was no time to admire. A shower was calling his name, and no reason existed at the moment for him to deny it.

It was 8:52 and Edward was growing a bit anxious. The food he worked to prepare was growing a bit cool, the steam that was rising with pride began to dwindle to little streams and spirals rising to the air, and disappearing within moments of leaving the source. He eyed the food from his desk, where he was revising a few notes he had out. They were nothing in particular, just old discoveries, that he already knew in the old world, and were only mere possibilities in this world, suggested by other scientists of the sort.

A sigh left his lips, and almost immediately after, he heard a soft tapping on his door. He immediately sat, back in perfect posture, straight up. He found himself chewing on the inside of his lip. Trying to lift his feet so that he could reach the opposite side of the room was a seemingly impossible task at the moment, and he couldn't overcome this simple movement. After taking the first step, he felt almost dizzy. Something was gnawing away at him with each step he took. A bitter wind chilled him, and he wanted nothing more than to open the door, but his heart was telling him not to. Defiant and ready to become livid with himself, he finally reached his destination.

"Sorry I'm late," Ray said, a curt smile tried to apologize along with the words.  
"Not a problem at all, come in."  
Ray nodded, and walked in past the blonde.  
"Mm, whatever you cooked smells delicious."  
"Thanks." Edward said incongruously and moved to close the door behind him.  
When they sat down, it was small talk for awhile, an occasional compliment on the food, and a few jokes.

"So, you study alchemy?"  
"Yeah, I do."  
"Why?" Ray said, almost a bit too sharply.

Slightly thrown off by the sudden nature of the man, he was almost reluctant to reply.

After a few moments of silence, Ray added, "If you can give me a decent reason, then I will be able to show you something that may interest you. If you give me a decent reason, I want you to explain to me what I show to you."

Now, Edward was just outright inquisitive. This man, who upon first meeting, seemed a bit ignorant, and now, he knew something that he didn't. Perhaps he knew, but just didn't understand, either way, it bothered him that someone else, especially with the face of the smug bastard, Roy Mustang, was a bit the wiser than he. Yeah, these two men were definitely similar. Dangling much wanted information above his head, but asking some kind of price in return.

If he was to obtain this information, and it was something vital to his studies, would he even want to share it with the other man? He felt himself growing a tad selfish, and his thoughts delved for the darkness. He was going to be greedy. It was simply his nature now.

"My reason for studying the topic of our current conversation is out of pure interest in the matter, the way it has been merely suggested by scientists of the past, but they have not had the intellect, or my intellect, rather, to pursue it. I study it because it holds the boundary between my beliefs and what is out there, what I wish to return to."

Ray was still for a moment, before giving a unpretentious nod, and sliding a small book across the table. Edward, with a smug attitude, picked the book up and leafed through it. At first, it seemed no different from the other notes that he had found or wrote himself before. Nothing stood out, that is, until he reached the last page. There was a sketch, a drawing of the sorts, with a small conclusion written under it. He briefly read it, and then began flipping the rest of the pages with more vigor. When he reached the last page, he saw one more drawing, and his eyes widened. His hand balled up into a fist as he drove it down onto the table. Body trembling, and teeth clenched, he barely managed to get out,

"Where the fuck did you get this?"

* * *

Wee! More suspense :D haha

But anyways, I'd love some more reviews!

And yes, there will be smut for future reference.


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